The only one allowed to break my heart
by sandra-wfg
Summary: Sometimes he wonders if there actually are ways to finally, definitively, irremediably get rid of that connection he feels towards her. Because really, the years did nothing to the tether.  Except maybe make it stronger.  set in 2022, flashback to senior
1. Against all odds

**Hi guys, this is my new story, hope you like it, be warned, it's angsty...**

**It takes place in 2021 with flashbacks to senior year.**** We don't know Finn's birth date but I'm setting it in March, deal with it ;)**

**As always this is dedicated to my good friend SLopez**** who had to watch this grow from a tiny idea to something I felt was too big for me.**

**I'd also like to thank Allie, AKA the Minsk, for her help ****regarding college in the US and how to become a teacher in NYC, I hope I didn't mess anything up!**

**And of course I don't own anything, Glee, the characters, the songs...**

**Places are real; I did a lot of research for this fic ;-) **

**Love,**

**S.**

The only one allowed to break my heart.

...

It the day before his birthday. The twenty-seventh one.

He's an adult.

A _man _for crying out loud!

He's even been working for four years now; he shouldn't get that emotional anymore. But somehow he's crying like a child in front of his bathroom mirror.

It hasn't happened in a while. He doesn't allow it, powering through it when he sees it coming, but once in a while he just can't help it and today is no exception.

The day starts well enough. The junior's basketball team he's coaching at the Y wins its sixth game in a row and okay, it's not major league or anything but bringing those kids together and actually achieving something feels great. It is awesome when the boys lift him above their heads and run around the court for a lap of honour. He is still laughing when that girl approaches him, clearly flirting with him. She's the big sister or whatever of one of his kids. He's seen her a couple of times picking Jason up or at the games and she has always smiled at him kindly. Today she's been giving him the hairy-eyeball all game long and she finally makes a move. She's cute, old enough so that he doesn't feel like a pervert, and is so forward he feels his confidence boost in an instant.

Until she wants to give him her number and he asks for her name. "Rachel," she says, and in a second he's out of here, mumbling something about a forgotten appointment, tripping over his own foot, leaving her standing alone in front of the boys' locker room.

It's only when he gets home that he allows himself to breathe, or choke rather. He hasn't heard the name in a long time. Avoided it even.

It's been nine years. It shouldn't have any effect on him anymore. Only it does.

He doesn't think about her anymore. Anymore than necessary. Anymore than once a day. Or maybe not. Maybe he hasn't thought about her yesterday. It's not like he's keeping track of it. Really. He's bound to forget her any day now.

He hasn't seen her in nine years.

If you'd asked him ten years ago (well, no not ten years, because ten years ago he had just started seeing Quinn again and he doesn't need to be reminded of _that_), if you had asked him nine years ago where he'd picture himself today he would have said without a doubt he'd still be with her (Rachel, not Quinn) with no other detail than being _with her_. He for sure never would have imagined he'd be a single kindergarten teacher in New Jersey. He would have laughed at the thought.

But that's exactly what he is. A twenty-seven single kindergarten teacher in New Jersey, standing in front of his bathroom sink, staring blindly into his mirror, freaking out about his life.

It's not like his life sucks or anything really. He has a job, which he actually loves, who would have thought... he coaches basketball at the local YMCA for extra money, he has friends, enough money to go see his mom when he wants to (or when she asks) and when he goes up on the roof of his apartment building he has a pretty decent view of the Manhattan skyline, if you forget the Hudson river cranes that are kind of blocking the panorama.

He kind of finds it ironic how the river running alongside New York and he have the same name. Because it's like he was never meant to get there. Only barely touch it.

He could have made it, once upon a time. He thought they were going to do it together. To leave Lima, never come back and start afresh in the Big Apple. But she never asked.

It broke his heart at the time. And even now when he allows himself to think about it he feels a twinge in his chest he can only assume is regret. They were never meant to be.

He's been spending so much time trying to convince himself about it he actually believes it some days.

Not today though.

The young Rachel he met today has reopened a wound he thought healed. He _hoped_ healed.

He ends up calling his stepbrother.

It's a Saturday night so Kurt is probably going out somewhere fancy, with his fancy friends and his fancy boyfriend but Finn knows he will answer anyway. Because they have become closer over the years. Because now they are actually friends.

"Please tell me I didn't mess up and that your birthday is actually tomorrow," Kurt chimes, answering his phone.

Finn smiles and reassures his brother, he should have waited until tomorrow; he could have waited for Kurt to call him. It's not like he ever forgets.

"Sorry, dude," he starts. He can hear chatters and laughter behind his brother and for a split second he feels jealous. Until he remembers that Kurt did ask him to join them tonight, as an early birthday celebration, as a casual party. But Finn always declines. He's not so big on partying anyways.

"What can I help you with?" Kurt asks.

"It's nothing dude, I'm sorry I bothered you." Finn tries, but Kurt knows him better than that.

"Don't be silly," Kurt says, and with that the noise behind him disappears, he has probably locked himself in a quiet room or gone out in order to find some peace. "My brother will never bother me!"

"Thanks," he says. He doesn't know where to start. But knowing Kurt he should start at the beginning. His existential crisis doesn't worry Kurt so much as it worries him. It's like his brother has some kind of knowledge of him he doesn't have himself. Like he knows everything will be fine in the end. Kurt's psychology major is always put in good use when it comes to his stepbrother.

For the first time Finn is able to voice his inner trouble. He's always known that Kurt knew too much about his life, but he has never said a thing, never judged him.

Today the fact that he's single, has been for the longest time, doesn't plan on changing that fact has hit him square in the face.

Single with benefits. Casually dating. Dirty single. He doesn't quite know how to define what he is but somehow it doesn't suit him anymore. It's been easy being a man in a majorly feminine work. And he's not even counting the single moms, aunts, nannies... he hates what he has become. But at the same time he can't picture himself with anyone seriously. Only... but that's a boat long sailed. He shouldn't be thinking about that anymore. Not after _nine_ years!

"You'd be too afraid to hurt that bad?" Kurt asks. "It's like you never let yourself love that much again."

He couldn't _hurt_ that much, because he _couldn't_ _love_ like that again.

Really, what's the point in trying when he knows he'll never love anyone as much as Rachel?

"I get it," Kurt says. "She's the only one who'll ever be allowed to break your heart."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

They end up at the lake at Schoonover Park after Brittany's post graduation party.

The simple fact that the cheerleader did graduate was reason enough to celebrate and everyone actually had a good time.

School's over, summer's here but for them it's also the end of the road. Or is it?

He's never told her he's been accepted in Hunter College in New York. He didn't even tell her he applied, although she was super proud of him when he got in OSU.

He realizes this is _it_ as they cuddle under a blanket in the bed of his truck.

"So what's next?" he asks, not looking at her.

He feels her shrug against him. He knows she doesn't want to talk about it just yet anymore than he does.

"Rach?" he says tentatively, his question only answered by her sniffles.

He hugs her more tightly as he feels his own chest constrict. She still hasn't said a word about him coming to New York and this is his last call to tell her. Hunter won't really hold his spot any longer.

"You're leaving," he says, hoping to launch the conversation.

"Yeah…" She's pressing her lips together and finally meets his eyes, "and you're staying."

It's not really a question and he has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from speaking up.

She looks a little defeated too and he wonders if he should just tell her.

"Do you think we couldn't manage long distance?" she asks before he has time to process his thoughts.

He looks at her, serious. "I don't know, do you?"

They both know they are too intense as a couple. The separation would be devastating for them and they'd spend more time pining over each other than focusing on anything else.

She doesn't answer. She knows they think the same thing. He sees her swallow hard and his own throat is painfully tightening.

"So what?" She adds. "We're breaking up?" Her voice cracks a little and her eyes are tearing up but he set up his mind a long time ago.

"I guess…" he blurts before clenching his teeth, even if he knows it won't help him retain his tears anymore.

"But I love you," she's not pleading, just stating the facts, and it makes it that much harder to handle.

"I know, baby. I love you too. So, so much…"

She thumbs away his tears and he brushes his lips against her eyelids, feeling the salty taste of hers.

The moment is heated when their lips meet, silently saying goodbye.

They finally make love under the oblivious moon because that's the only thing they can think about, and everything has been said, or rather been left unsaid when they fall asleep, wrapped tightly around each other.

It's over.

They hug it off mutely when he drops her the next morning and he doesn't even try not to cry.

And he doesn't pretend to care when his mom grounds him for not coming home the night before.

It's not like he has anything to live for anymore, anyway.

...

_How can you just walk away from me when all I can do is watch you leave'  
>'cos we shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears.<br>You're the only one who really knew me at all.  
>So take a look at me now<br>well  
>there's just an empty space<br>And there's nothing left here to remind me  
>Just the memory of your face.<br>Oh  
>take a look at me now<br>there's just an empty space_

And you coming back to me is against the odds

And that's what I've got to face.

(Against all odds, Phil Collins)

...

To be continued...

A/N: For those who wonder: everything will be explained, from the incomprehension to the sex, to Finn's studies ... just let the story unfold ;)


	2. If you're not the one

**I'm sorry about the wait guys but I have so many ideas for this story that I'm writing it completely backwards and actually have some future scenes already fully written when I still haven't started this chapter…**

**Bare with me, at least I know where I'm going!**

**And as always, thanks to Su ;) hope you liked your preview!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**** All rights to Fox and RyMurph, please don't sue me, this is just for fun.**

…

So he decided on his birthday he'd turn his life around, in the dating department that is, the rest is pretty great.

Except today sucks.

He has plans tonight with Kurt and that means he has to drive the fifteen miles up to Manhattan which would be a breeze if it weren't for the time of day and the Lincoln tunnel road construction. He could take the train of course, but that would add thirty minutes to the trip and he'd have to crash at Kurt's and he's not sure he wants to do that. That'd increase the odds of running into her, too.

So he's gonna take his beat up Honda and pray that traffic is not that bad. And go home whenever he pleases, when he knows it won't take him an hour to make a twenty minutes drive.

He's not even out and he's already nervous. He jammed one of his toes against a chair and refrained from kicking it altogether. Without shoes it would be a very bad idea. He spotted a gray hair while putting on his contacts and dropped the one that wasn't already in his eye into the sink-drain. So now he looks like a fool with his stupid out of date glasses (he doesn't wear them much outside the house) and stupid gray hair when he's not even thirty.

And he knows Kurt is gonna nag him about finally completing his master degree. He realizes it's the last year he can do that before it's too late but he could argue that there's no point to that anymore. Except that Kurt won't take no for an answer. He promised their mom when Finn got his initial certification that he wouldn't leave it at that. Who knows if he ever wants to work in California or New York?

Finn mutters under his breath that there are forty eight other states where he _can_ teach and that it's enough, really. He knows he's lying to himself though, because he has thought about this since he decided he would get a bachelor degree in education and become a teacher in New York, living with the girl he loved, back in high school.

Things didn't go as planned but the dream remained. If not for her then for himself. To prove he could actually do it. Even if she never took a look back at him, he wants to prove the world he _is_ worthy of Rachel Berry, Broadway sensation.

He doesn't think about them anymore.

He doesn't think about them any less either.

Maybe once a month or so. Maybe not. Maybe more.

But things are improving. After a while he's stopped trying to avoid her.

…..

He had to explain things to Kurt after a while. After they started talking again and built a relationship as adults.

After he declined Hunter and put OSU on hold, worked a year with Burt at the tire shop (decided he definitely didn't want this life), worked at the youth center in Lima on the side and discovered his love for education (he already knew but it confirmed everything). After he took night classes and worked his butt off to get a scholarship (based on his father's merit and his own extracurricular activities and implication in the community) so he could start, a year later than everyone but more motivated than any of them, his master degree in education at the OSU Lima campus.

After he and Kurt didn't speak for most of that year and tried very hard to rekindle a relationship once Finn got over the fact that no, he wasn't going to be in New York anytime soon, didn't have the right to be jealous, nor the one to "ask without asking" about the girl Kurt saw on a weekly basis if not more often.

So after his four years of college, after he had saved up money to move thanks to the fact that he was going to school in the town he lived in, after he had found a job and settled in Kearny, NJ; he'd talked to Kurt.

But not before he had refused point blank to join any party _she_ might have attended or even once turned away on Kurt's threshold as soon as his brother had opened the door, because he'd understood he'd been set up and Rachel was there.

Kurt never got how he had guessed and so he had had to explain.

It had been an awful day. He had woken up in a cold sweat at three a.m., had been unable to go back to sleep or even calm down all day until he had tried watching TV and stumbled on E! while channel surfing and heard that Broadway newcomer Rachel Berry had been in a car accident that very night and was being taken care of at the Mount Sinai Medical Center. His heart had dropped in his chest and he had fumbled for his phone. Surely Kurt wouldn't deny him _this_ information? On the other hand he was quite certain he would feel it if she were… he hadn't dare think the word. But yeah, he'd know… it didn't make the thought any easier.

His phone had rung then and Kurt had confirmed that although beat up, bruised and shaken she would be alright. Finn had thought that his brother had felt his distress and thus called him. He had then explained the tether he felt with Rachel, in one of the most heartfelt conversation the two young men had ever had. Kurt had stated that although they were deeply connected now he didn't think they had that kind of link, but that he did know Finn _that_ well. He'd known that despite everything that had happened, everything Finn might say about not wanting to hear about Rachel, he would want to know.

The two brothers had since been closer and Kurt promised he'd never try to make the two ex lovers meet against their will again. And this had been the start of a real friendship.

….

But tonight Finn doesn't feel like going. He is convinced Kurt will try to set him up with one of his numerous (and really gorgeous) friends. And he doesn't want that anymore, strangers in his arms that he will never love.

He has to explain Kurt that too.

If _she_ isn't _the_ one, maybe there isn't _a _one.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

They've started applying to colleges but they still haven't talked about their future. The future of their relationship.

She feels like he has put a time limit to it and she's still hoping he'll hint at something regarding him coming with Kurt and her to New York, or ask her to wait for him or anything. But he's yet to say anything.

She could say something but she feels it's too soon. She doesn't want to rush him and really, she knew what she was signing for in that library. She wanted to be with him _now_. She didn't think about the future. She always knew she would go, and maybe she's the one who set up the expiration date? She's not sure anymore. And she doesn't dare bring up the conversation, because they feel so good together and she's sure it'll bring tension. He'd say something if he had something to say. She wants to believe in that.

She's put an application form for NYU in his stack, hoping he'll get the hint. Even if she knows he'd have the hardest time paying for tuition and lodging and everything there. Hell, only _applying_ costs seventy dollars and she's seen the number of colleges he has papers for. He'll have to make a choice.

She doesn't want to hope he'll choose her. Above everything she wants him to be happy, to find what he wants in life and achieve that. If she's there with him it'll only be the icing on the cake but he's been so adamant that she follows her dream that she can only do the same for him. So if he has to stay (or wants to) in Ohio, or elsewhere for that matter, to do that, she'll be supportive of him, like he's been of her. He never once asked her to stay; maybe he knows she'd refuse? She feels la little bad at that but this is a goal she set for herself long before she even knew him.

…

It's early December when he starts showing signs of eye weakness. She's been tutoring him in every class, because he asked, and because she wants to. And they don't even derive from their schedule to make out. She's extremely proud of the both of them. She tells him so and that earns her one of the hottest kiss they ever shared, yeah, not that good a move she chuckles to herself, melting into him. All is well.

He starts having headaches when studying. And at first she suspects him to want to cut their working hours, but it's not that. He's squinting a lot, moves his books closer to his face to read and soon enough there's only one explanation: he needs glasses.

He refuses obstinately at first. He's not gonna be seen at school wearing stupid glasses that will make him look stupid! She argues that clever guys wear glasses. He argues that nerds do. She reminds him of the Rocky horror production they did. He reminds her it was a costume and would she want to see him running around in his tighty-whities in school as well? (she actually wouldn't mind, at all). She mentions Artie. He tells her to forget about it.

He has an argument with his mom about it too because of course she'd side with Rachel and make him actually wear those stupid stuff.

She wins him over when she mentions Clark Kent, because the guy is beyond cool (even if he's a dork) and he still remember the Superman of kisses. Yeah, that was a smart move of hers…

He still fusses a little (a lot) at the optician's until they suggest he could also try contacts. His interest is piqued and really that would be better with football and all, and he promises he'll take great care of them and will wear his glasses at night not to strain his eyes and everything his mom and Rachel will ask him because really who would _want_ to wear stupid glasses anyways?

…

Only he's freaked out at putting his finger in his eyes. And no matter how much she tells him he doesn't actually have to _touch_ his eyeball he just can't get the hold of it. It takes them several attempts and uncounted poking before he finally manages it by himself for the first time. He's not sure how he's gonna do it tomorrow when he's alone and just woken up. And his eyes are so red already that he's pretty sure he shouldn't even try to put the contacts in tomorrow. He hates his life, well his eyes anyway. He hates being dependent on her for that, because he _should_ he the strong one, he should be Superman. He's rubbing his eyes, scared that he'll get the lens out. He fidgets when she approaches him, wanting to help. He's getting frustrated and he's taking it on her when really she's done nothing but help him and he feels like a fool for it.

She suggests that he gets Lasik surgery when they are in New York and he doesn't really listen but how would he ever let someone take a shot with a laser in his freaking eyes when _he_ can't even touch them himself. So he snaps at her that no! he doesn't want _that_.

He means the surgery.

She hears New York.

So no, she's not gonna ask him again.

They still have time. She hopes.

….

_If you're not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?  
>If you're not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?<br>If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call?  
>If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all?<em>

I never know what the future brings  
>But I know you're here with me now<br>We'll make it through  
>And I hope you are the one I share my life with<p>

I don't wanna run away but I can't take it, I don't understand  
>If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?<br>Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

If you're not the one (Daniel Bedingfield)

….

To be continued.

Reviews are love! Also I'd like to know: would you wait for someone this long? (I mean, is this story even plausible? I know _I_ would but how about you?)


	3. The only fault

**Sorry for the wait ****you guys (that's the new chorus here…)**

**Thanks for all the alerts, reviews and favorites, it really means a lot :)**

**Disclaimer: ****Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox (I guess), Postsecret belongs to Frank Warren, and if you don't know what it is I suggest you try it out (and become addicted!) postsecret[.]com**

…

"I have a favor to ask," Kurt says in the middle of May.

Finn looks at his brother warily, you never know what he's up to until it's too late to say no, so he mumbles a non committed "uh?"

"I need you to babysit Alexander McQueen."

"Uh?" this time he's listening.

Kurt sighs then, taking courage, "Flavio-is-taking-me-to-Italy-in-June-to-meet-his-parents."

"Oh, wow," Finn gapes, "I didn't realize it was that serious between you two!"

"Neither did I," he shakes his head, "I mean, I love him and we did make long term plans, but I think that's _it_, you know?"

He knows.

He's seen his brother get heartbroken when things ended with Blaine and then have a couple short term liaisons, until he met this Italian dude a couple of years ago. He never thought too much of it until now, and he realizes, looking at Kurt now, with the flush in his cheeks and his genuine smile, that this might very well be the real thing.

And he's happy for him, really. So he hugs the shorter man and they laugh together at how much Kurt is finally happy.

"So will you do it?" Kurt asks again and Finn has to concentrate really hard to figure what he's talking about.

"Alex?" he repeats, "will you take care of him?"

Finn does a double take as it finally hits him, Kurt's asking him to _dog_sit his beloved Dalmatian.

"How long are you going?" he ventures nervously. He likes dogs but this one's not the easiest one and, considering the size of it, requires bi-daily one hour walks.

Kurt bites his bottom lip, which isn't really a good sign, before he answers. "We're leaving early June…"

Finn's gulps. He knows what this means.

And sure enough Kurt adds: "we'll be back in August."

Finn grunts. That's his whole summer vaporizing before it has even begun. And he knows there's no way he can deny his brother. The guy has helped him too much this year.

"I have classes dude!" Finn tries.

"I know that, I thought you could take my baby to your place until the school-year ends then live here," he gestures his hand as if to show his gigantic condo, "for as long as you wish. I know you love being here in the summer."

It's the truth. New York is usually too hot but it's nothing compared to his tiny apartment with no AC. And the condo is right by the park too, that would be a great summer of getting lazy there, he could even catch a play of two… No. Let's not think about that.

"I don't know, Kurt," he really tries but his brother's Bambi's eyes and the fact that he _does _like it here have him capitulate before he even has time to fight.

"You owe me one…" he pretends to sound angry but he's too happy for Kurt and really, beside going back to Lima, it's not like he had any plans. And his mom and Burt could totally drive over for a couple of days.

"Oh, Rachel will be so happy, she was scared I'd end up asking her…" Kurt trails, realizing his mistakes as he sees Finn freeze.

"I'm not meeting with her." He states, his jaw clenched.

"No, I know, I wasn't implying anything." Kurt says, almost wanting to cry, "but we did talk about Alexander McQueen."

"Okay." Finn hopes the conversation is over, but it's however overlooking Kurt's abilities to read him like an open book.

"Maybe you should,"

"NO!" he cuts before Kurt has time to say anything.

"Finn…"

"Kurt," he says wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't even know what to think anymore.

He's stopped thinking about her.

He forgot her fingers in his hair.

And her scent has vanished from his favorite T-Shirt. He's not even sure he'd recognize it anymore.

If he didn't still have that sample she left behind, with his heart. And maybe she has switched perfumes anyways.

Okay, so he _has_ been thinking about her a lot lately. But Kurt doesn't need to know that.

Except of course, he does.

"Maybe it's time to bury the hatchet?" he hears Kurt say.

But there's not really a hatchet to bury. There was no animosity when they split. It was just over all of a sudden. No seeing her, no holding her, no talking to her or _about_ her. It was just as if he had had to rip a page off a book and throw it away. And forget what was on it in the process. Only for once the memory he could never count on didn't let this go. And for a while he tried really hard to force himself, but the more he did, the more vivid the memories were. That's why he started to serial-date. To try and erase them by making new ones.

He's pretty sure Kurt knows that. Even if they never talked about it.

"She never wanted me here," he eventually says, swallowing painfully.

"Did she say that?" Kurt looks dubious.

"She never said a thing otherwise."

Kurt looks dumbstruck, terrified even.

They have never talked about what happened back then. Hell, Finn was so sorry for himself that he refused to talk to Kurt for almost a year.

"Did you read the letter?"

Finn has to rack his memory to understand what Kurt is talking about.

He didn't.

And as far as he knows the thing is still unopened in whatever one of his old books. (Okay, he knows exactly what page, what book, what shelf. _She _gave him the book after all.)

"What's the point," he says again. It's like his new motto.

He's not sure he likes it.

…

He forgets about it again. Tries to anyway.

It's the beginning of June and Kurt has just left for Florence with his Tuscan lover, leaving a distraught Alexander McQueen in the hand of a not so less distraught Finn.

He's walking the dog at Kearny March when he meets up with one of his kindergartners.

"Mr. Hudson!" The little boy runs up to him and holds his leg joyfully as his father joins them and shakes Finn's hand.

"That's a beautiful dog!" the man says, petting the Dalmatian.

"My brother's," Finn finds himself forced to explain. The man smiles kindly and starts to make small talk. The weather, school, the upcoming holidays. They are about the same age it seems. In another life they could have been friends.

"Do you have a wife?" the guy asks kindly.

Finn answers negatively and it seems the man is giving him a sad smile in return, saying something about "those little one not making themselves by magic". Finn nods pensively. He knows.

And just by magic he's thinking about Jewish babies with kippahs, and lox bagels for brunch.

He absentmindedly bides Paul's dad goodbye and makes his way home.

He drops Alex's leash to the floor the moment he walks the door and goes straight to his bookcase as the dog settles in his basket.

He picks up the book and finds the letter where he left it nine years ago.

The moment he finishes to read it he's yelling at Kurt on the phone, not caring in the least what this phone call to Italy will cost him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he stresses.

"Because I promised not to," Kurt sounds calm but Finn wonders if it's just a façade as he hears quiet sniffles on the other side of the line.

"I promised her I wouldn't, like I promised you I wouldn't tell her about Hunter College."

Finn stays silent, trying to comprehend what he's hearing as Kurt goes on.

"I almost lost both of you that year," Kurt says, "she didn't want you to chose her over your future, like you didn't want her to back out of her dreams for you, but you were both so stubborn that no matter the hints we tried to send you, you both refused to see what was right in front of you." Finn has to lean against the wall for support. He _is_ stubborn. That cost him her. _Twice_.

Kurt goes on though and it's even harder to hear now, "after she left you refused to talk to me, and she didn't want me to talk to her about anything Lima-related. So I vowed to stay silent, because I couldn't lose the two of you. It took so long for you to talk to me again that I kept my promise, even though it killed me to see the mistakes you were making. It killed me to see what happened to you that year. _Both_ of you."

Finn's not sure what his brother is talking about but he apologizes all the same, until Kurt calms down.

"You wouldn't listen to anything, Finn, believe me, we tried."

Turns out his mom knew everything.

"But your mind was set, and eventually you let her go, however bad you felt about this."

"I didn't _let_ her go," Finn realizes, "I pushed her away…"

He wishes Kurt a great vacation, regretting his outburst and getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It's only when he reads the letter a second time that he allows himself to cry.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_My dearest Finn, _

_I was hoping to see you there today, to properly say goodbye. I never want to say goodbye. I need you to know this last year has been the most beautiful of my life. The happiest._

_I wish it didn't have to stop. I wish you would have come to New York with us. I was hoping we'd find a way around everything. That we could still be together, but we never talked about it. I know you don't like the city and that's why I didn't press you to come with me. I wanted it to be your choice, your decision. But you never said a thing so I understood it wasn't what you wanted. And you've always been so fervent about me going that I just couldn't __not__. So here I am at the airport, wishing that you'd be there so I could tell you in person, but you're not. I understand too because seeing you again would make it so much more difficult for me to go, so at least it's a clean break._

_I hope in my heart that you will revise your opinion and consider joining us in the Big Apple._

_If ever you feel there is still a chance for us to be together, meet me in Central Park, you know where and when, I'll be waiting for you._

_I hope you know how much I love you; you have to believe that I always will hold you dearly in my heart, even if we're never to meet again._

_Take care Finn, and have the best of lives._

_I love you, always._

_Your_

_Rachel*_

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

They avoid each other all summer. Or not so much avoid as _not seek out_, which in the end is the same because they still don't see each other. But he's convinced she's avoiding him, because she could totally have come to a slumber party with Kurt, or gone to the public pool, or the mall. But she didn't. He should know, he checked, not that he would admit it.

He tried to ask Kurt without asking, tried to glean information on her whereabouts without his brother being the wisest, but he's come up empty handed; because Kurt is smarter than him and sees right through him and refuses to play his game.

He knows from a conversation he overheard between his mom and stepbrother that she's supposed to leave on the second to last week of August. Kurt will follow a week after. So far the plan for them is to live on campus, him at NYU, Rachel at Julliard, and maybe in a year or two, if they can find jobs, eventually share an apartment.

Had he chosen to go to Hunter he would have joined them, they might have started the cohabitation right away.

He hates to think about that.

He's not grounded anymore, his mom lifted the punition the moment she heard of the breakup (not from him). But she didn't ask about it. She learned not to the hard way the last time they broke up, the first time, whatever, the winter before last. He can't believe he lost so much time. Maybe if he had forgiven her sooner, or if he hadn't dated Quinn again…

He hates "maybes".

So now he refuses to talk about _her_, he doesn't want to hear about OSU. He's asked them to hold his acceptance for a year, to the huge dismay of his mom. But deep down he knows she understands.

He makes Kurt promise not to tell anyone, meaning Rachel, about it either. Like he'd made him promise not to tell about Hunter. He knows he'll keep his promise. Even if sometimes he hopes he wouldn't.

…

The day she's supposed to leave Kurt comes find him in his bedroom.

The temperature there is unbearable but he hasn't set foot outside in a while and has no intention to for the rest of his life. He knows what day it is, he's been counting them down since they broke up. He's wished so hard she would turn around and come knocking on his door he actually is disappointed when he sees his brother standing on the threshold.

"You're coming with me," Kurt says. And Finn knows it means _to the airport, to say goodbye_. But he refuses point blank, there's no way he's going there to be reminded of what could have been, to see her, maybe even cry in front of her and still not be able to be with her. So he shoves Kurt out as gently as he can, considering he has nothing against the guy, and plunges face first on his bed, resuming the mourning, the funk, he's been in all summer long.

"You'll regret it," Kurt whispers, shaking his head and fighting back tears.

"I already do," comes Finn's muttered reply from the depth of his pillow.

…

When Kurt comes back he hears him tell their mom that _she_ waited for the longest time before boarding; that it was obvious she was waiting for _someone._ He doesn't want to hear about it so when he goes out and sees their concerned faces and inquisitive stares he invents some play-date with Puck (even though he knows they both know he's not in town) and leaves the house.

He doesn't get back before everyone is in bed and sleeping. There's no way _he_ can sleep though. He keeps thinking about what would have happened if he'd gone. Or if he had told her about Hunter. Or if they had tried long distance.

He HATES "ifs".

…

He gets the letter two days later.

He just can't read it.

He considers throwing it away but in the end he opens the copy of the Postsecret book she gave him for his birthday and shoves the letter inside.

…

_Hold on  
>This may hurt you when I tell you of the truth<br>We don't get two lives to live  
>It's true<br>The only fault I've found in you is not being free to take what I would give_

If I could bend your pain into something good  
>Make you a prouder man<br>If I could rough you up then save you with good luck  
>And show you hope again<p>

Hold on  
>You weren't meant to suffer so very long<br>Leaving love that's gone has never been a sin  
>Hang tight<br>The only fault you have tonight is shutting down so cold 'til I break in

_(The only fault, Rachael Yamagata)_

…

TBC…

**Reviews are love as they say, hint, hint! ;)**


	4. Mine again

**Hi all,**

**Chapter 3 has been fixed since ff. net erased a sentence of it, I put it back and now you know that "Flavio asked Kurt to go to Italy with him to meet the parents…" in case you wondered!**

**A little Finchel fluff at the end of this chapter to compensate for the angst of the reunion ('cause, yeah, I love my angst!)**

**Hope it's worth the pain though :)**

**To Su, who for once didn't get to read anything in advance because she's on vacations.**

**Disclaimer: don't own, don't sue!**

**Chapter 4: Mine again.**

…

He still officially has two weeks of school but since his mom and Burt have flown in for the week, he's spending the week-end in Manhattan with them.

Burt's watching a game on his son's giant flat screen while Finn and his mom have lemonade on the den (Kurt's apartment is so big that Finn is convinced he's gonna find some unknown room any day now), catching up on their respective whereabouts.

"So how about your master degree," Carole asks casually, when the topic of work comes up. She knows he only has one year left to complete it, and he's sure she knows he's been thinking of dropping it altogether.

He shrugs dismissively, trying to avoid the subject, as if he didn't know his own mother.

"How many more credits do you need?" she presses.

"Nineteen," he finally mumbles shamefully.

"So you have seventeen? Sweetie, you're almost halfway done, I don't see why you wouldn't go on?"

He shrugs again, "I'm fine working in Jersey mom, I'm settled down, now."

"But, Finn, it was your dream, coming to work here!" she's not sure she understands his reticence.

"Mom, it's been ten years! Dreams change... Besides, it's not like _this_ was the dream… it was a whole package…"

She puts one of her hands over his, on the table. She hates seeing him down, and she knows this idea has been eating at him for a while now. And not only because she talks to Kurt. But she would know her own flesh. She knows it's all about Rachel. When has it not?

It's hurting her to see him hurt. She wishes more than anything that he would let her help him, and she doesn't care that he's a grown-up, he's always gonna be her baby.

"Okay," she starts slowly, readjusting her sunglasses and leaning back in her seat. "I'm gonna be your mother here. You once made me promise to hold my tongue on something and I did, but you also made me promise to never let you quit on anything. So this is me setting my foot down, Finn Hudson! You're going to complete this master degree, even if it means I have to quit my job to come and kick your butt to do it!"

He chuckles a little at her fake outburst but at the same time his eyes fill with tears. But he's so not gonna cry in front of his mom…

He sighs deeply, trying to compose himself, even if he knows she's not dupe.

"It's too late, now mom, I don't have the time."

"Finn," she sounds a little resigned, "I know you can do whatever you want to do." She nods to emphasize her words, "you will complete your degree if it kills me, and if it's a matter of money, we'll help, you'll cut your classes and we'll pay for your rent. It's about time you get as much as we gave your brother for his education."

She sees him starting to argue so she goes on, even more enthusiastically, "you've paid for everything until now, Finn. You never wanted us to help you. And I know you never asked us anything, but I _want_ to help you now."

"We won't take no for an answer," Burt adds from the other side of the opened French-doors, startling them a little as they didn't notice him approach.

"What's the point, guys?" (He hasn't used this one on them yet…) "I might never get to work here," he finishes, gesturing at the city below.

"That's the key-word, Finn," Burt chimes in, "_might_! You never know what the future holds. You've heard your mother, no more arguing." And with that he's back inside. Talk about a perfect timing for a halftime, Finn thinks with irony.

He looks at his mom for a long time. He knows where he gets his stubbornness from, and she _will_ make his life miserable if he tries to confront her again.

He feels like a child. But somehow it feels good to have his mom to confide in and count on. He smiles with clenched teeth at her. He's not sure of how much he can share with her. He might just have to take a chance on her.

"Do you believe in soulmates," he asks her, out of the blue.

She takes her time answering, nodding absently. "I believe in true love," she starts slowly, "I believe in second chances, too."

He scoffs a bit at that because in his case it's not second or even third chances. Truth be told he stopped counting forever ago, and anyways, he's not sure he deserves any more chance at anything.

He tells her about the letter. About how he's been feeling since his birthday. She listens closely and in the end wipes some tears from her eyes.

She takes his hand again and repeats, "I do believe in true love."

He hates that his eyes are welling up as well. Doesn't she get that this ship has sailed a long time ago?

"Finn, the truth is that I believe you _had_ true love. But you were too young to accept those feelings for what they were. Maybe they were too big for you, maybe you were scared of feeling so much, I don't know. And I'm not only talking about _you_ there," she points at his chest. "I mean, Rachel as well."

It's the first time her name has been spoken between the two of them in nine years. It was one of the things he made her promise.

He shakes his head, swallowing hard and fighting back tears.

"I can't help you here, sweetie," she sounds sorry, "this is something you have to work out for yourself, or preferably with Rachel." He rolls his eyes a little, but she goes on, "if you believe there's a tiny bit of a chance, you need to talk to her, or at least you need to get closure on it all, because you can't let those emotions eat at you like that and prevent you from living your life."

He watches her gravely, his jaw set.

"I really do believe in second chances, though," she smiles comfortingly, puting a hand on his forearm.

…

The first time she came with hope.

Hope that despite everything that had happened between them, despite everything she had not become, he would still be there.

The second time she tried to reason with herself that it was no use but came anyway, as if to make sure.

She tried to avoid it but despite her will she found herself in the same spot year after year, like clockwork. And like clockwork she'd dissolve in tears. Because he was never there.

It's not like she thinks about him anymore.

She stopped a long time ago.

Stopped remembering, stopped hoping it was him every time the phone rang. Stopped wishing he'd be there waiting for her at her doorstep when she exited the elevator.

She can even listen to _Faithfully_, without crying. Much.

This year is the last time, she vows. She's going to go as a sort of pilgrimage. To say goodbye, turn the page, get closure. After all, it's the ten years anniversary of _that_ date. How long should one normally take to give up on a dream?

So she goes to Central Park and stops on the way to buy herself flowers. She plans on throwing them in the lake. That date didn't go too well in the end anyways, she has to remember.

It was too much for her to handle. So many emotions all of a sudden when she had spent months trying to block her feelings for him. She'd been too overwhelmed to function normally and she'd pushed him away, when in reality she wanted nothing more than to meet him halfway.

She approaches the bridge and finds it ironic that there would still be a man making giant soap bubbles and another one selling balloons.

She approaches the balustrade and watches down at the rowing boats on the water, trying to forget that she once hoped they'd be in one of them. After checking for guards around so she wouldn't be arrested for littering, she drops her flowers in the water, carefully avoiding the happy couples below.

There's nothing more to do now. She can't allow herself to break down in the middle of the park. Her career couldn't handle the bad publicity. So she straightens up and crushes the one tear she couldn't restrain on its way down her cheek.

She doesn't know what makes her turn around but once she does she does a double take. It must be a trick of the light but she could swear she saw _him_. Only that's not possible, so she _knows_ the illusion will be gone once she opens her eyes again.

She blinks at the summer sun but the vision's still here, with Kurt's dog in leash, wearing a white shirt and a hopeful smile.

Her heart skips a bit.

"You took your time, didn't you?" she chokes, before striding away in the other direction.

She can't handle that. Not now. Not when she has _finally_ given up.

But of course he's still quicker than she is and he catches up with her before she even gets to the end of the bridge.

She tries to resist. Pretending she didn't see him, pushing him away as he catches her arm.

"Rachel, wait," he begs. She doesn't want to hear a thing. She wants to be able to breathe again.

But all of a sudden the Dalmatian escapes Finn's hand and runs away, leaving him stranded, watching from the dog to her, unable to make a choice on who to follow.

"Marc Jacobs, here!" he tries from afar, and she can only snicker. Marc Jacobs was Kurt's previous dog. Which died like five years ago.

She sighs exasperatedly and runs after the dog, calling its real name, as Finn stays rooted to his spot, watching her chase after a dog which would outrun her easily if it wasn't patiently waiting for her under a tree, a good three hundred yards away from its departure point, waving its tail and barking happily.

She kneels beside Alexander McQueen and pets him a little, fussing at his collar, untangling the leash that's now wrapped around his paws. Cursing at him at the same time for making her run in heels and look like a fool.

He's beside her in three strides and she curses at him for having such long legs.

She's unwilling to look at his face. She just can't.

"What are you doing here, Finn," she manages to ask through clenched teeth as she hands him Alex's leash to grab. Their finger brush together and she snatches her hand away angrily.

"I'm dog-sitting Alexander McQueen," he tries tentatively.

"Don't play me for a fool, please," she all but barks, her eyes filling with tears again.

He wants to tell her everything.

Tell her that he came to see her musical yesterday, and that she was beautiful.

Tell her that he finally, _finally_, read her letter. That he's sorry it took him this long.

He wants to explain everything that happened those last nine years. How he thought she didn't want him with her while she thought he didn't want to come, how they were both so stupid that they might have missed on their chance, but that it may be still there.

Most of all he wants to hold her and prevent her from running away again. But he's frozen in place, incapable of articulating a word.

It's the first time he's seen her in all those years. The real her.

Not on TV, not on stage, in costume and makeup. He wants to make up for lost times but he can't do anything more than stare at her. And from the look of it he looks stupid because she scoffs and tries to make an escape again.

"Rachel, wait!" this sentence has never really worked for him, "please!"

He's desperate. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he thought he'd have more time.

He reaches inside his pocket and shoves the crumpled paper in her hand, almost breathless "I _just_ read it!"

She watches the sheet in her hand warily, starting to tremble when she realizes what he's saying, what she's looking at.

"What?" how can her voice be so shaky? She hates how weak he makes her.

He sits her on the nearest bench, securing the leash around the post so that Alex doesn't escape again.

He wishes he had one for her too…

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Do you think I could be a teacher?" he asks her one rainy day of January.

He's looking at some "what to do with myself" booklet he's found at Ms Pillsbury's office. Their SATs results have been sent to each college they've applied to but he's still not sure of what he'll do if ever ("_when_, Finn!" she told him to think positively) he gets in anywhere.

"I think you can be whatever you want to be," she watches him from over her textbook.

She notices his worried look and closes the book, straightening up and inching closer to him.

"Would you like being a teacher?" she asks. They haven't really discussed careers for him and the look of pride on her face is giving her away on how she feels about this idea.

"Well," he's not sure about this choice but it's starting to grow on him, has been for a while, really. Ever since he coached that mini basketball team over the Christmas break. "I've really been liking working with kids this winter," he sees her nod, edging him on, "and the way Mr. Schue's taking care of us, I don't know, I'd really like that, I mean…" she can see he's really serious about it and that brings tears to her eyes to see him really considering his future. "I wouldn't go for high school, but maybe some lower grades? Kindergarten?"

She's in his arms without him even realizing it, hugging him tight.

"I'm so proud of you," she says seriously, "you'll make a great teacher, I saw how you were with those kids during the break!"

Suddenly she's straddling his lap, taking his glasses off and kissing him like there's no tomorrow, her hands burying in his hair the way he likes it.

He gladly joins in, as they shift to make themselves more comfy on his bed.

He doesn't want to think about anything right now, no college worries, acceptance, location, tuition, no wondering if she will ever ask him to come with her, and if so, will he actually be able to?

That's just the two of them, engrossed in each other, engaging in one of the hottest make-out sessions since they got back together. Because they've been taking things really slow. Like they started over on everything, all things earned the last time erased and having to be earned again. He gets and accepts that, because he understands him breaking up with her made a huge dent in her self confidence, and he's not entirely sure of how much she trusts him.

His hands roam her body until he tentatively slides them over her bottom, settling them here.

She grinds a little into him at the touch and he can't help himself, "God, I love your bu…" he clenches his eyes shut in shame and tries to get back on his feet with this one, "bu..ig brown eyes…" he flinches, tries to open an eye to gauge her reaction and it's so not what he was expecting.

Of course she's stopped kissing him, and of course she's watching him with those beautiful eyes, but her look is more astonished than anything, inquisitive even (he SO nailed the SATs!).

"Were you gonna say _butt_?" she asks curiously.

"Well, yeah…" he answers, trying to be honest even if it costs him a slap.

"Really?" she seems really surprised at his answer and actually tries to watch her own butt, to see what the appeal would be.

He swallows hard to get courage and watches her gravely, "Rachel, your butt is amazing… you should know that."

It's like she never even suspected it. She blushes a little, as if she's kinda proud of herself and finally asks him the most awesome thing she's ever asked (he's still hoping for that "would you come to New York with me" but this is totally the next best thing).

"Would you… would you like to touch it?" and the way she says it, it's like she finds the idea completely absurd and is afraid he would decline.

"Yeah," he manages to croak as his eyes widen, and he's not really sure he remembers how to breathe when she guides his hands up her skirt and down her panties, still watching him apprehensively, as if _she_ were asking permission.

He swears he's never touched anything that soft in his life (that is, until she lets him touch her boobs, later that night. And that combined with seeing her skin get goose-bumps as he touches her and her rosy peaks tighten under his fingers, yeah, no, he hasn't thought about the mailman in a while but then he really _needs_ to).

So her butt was already awesome he thinks, lightly massaging her buttocks as she totally lets him, but now it's just... phenomenal. He's trying to find a good metaphor for it when she breaks the kiss again and watches him, biting her bottom lip.

Her sentence startles him and turns him on like he wouldn't have thought possible.

"Could I…" she stammers, "can I touch yours?"

Okay; she's definitely gonna be the death of him.

…

_T__here's a place I used to go  
>there's a world I used to know<br>there was a light and it was you  
>every word I say is true<br>I say -_

Every day I will wait - till you're mine again  
>I will die every day - till you're mine again<br>there's no words to explain - no beginning and no end  
>I will dream, I will pray – you'll be mine again<p>

(Mine again, Black Lab)

…..

To be continued

"Thoughts?" (à la Mercedes)


	5. Arms of a woman

**Thanks all for the reviews and alerts, it means a lot!**

**Disclaimer: still don't own Glee (can't wait to own season2 on DVD though! Who would like an extended cut of episode 22?)**

**I don't own the song or F. R. I. E. N. D. S. either,**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 5: ****Arms of a woman**

….

He remembers asking his mom how it was even possible to love someone so much without having them loving you back.

He's not sure when it was.

Maybe after graduation? Maybe the fir… second time he broke up with her, back in 2010. Maybe he could ask it again now…

…

He's not sure how it happened. How he _knew_ she'd be there. How he almost managed to make her run away but somehow talked her into staying a little while longer.

Amazingly, she suggested taking Alexander McQueen with her for his last week of class and they are to meet again this upcoming weekend so that she can return the dog to Kurt's apartment.

She all but refused to talk with him, answering him monosyllabically, avoiding his eyes.

He didn't push too hard. Not wanting to corner her. Not really knowing what to say anyway. He's never been one to plan ahead when his feelings are concerned.

He watched her pretending to pet the dog, watched her shift uncomfortably on the bench when he sat her down and explained the letter. Watched her brow crease and her eyes get misty. Watched the scar he didn't know on the side of her temple, from her accident he gathers. His heart gave a thud at how much he wanted to reach over and touch it, ask about it.

She gave the letter back and came up with this so-called solution for Alex, and Finn was too willing to agree, anything to get her to talk to him. He understood she needs time.

To be honest he needs it too.

…

He's sitting in his kitchenette, nursing his coffee as he wonders how things will go tomorrow. She's finished with her last show and rehearsals for the next one won't start until late August. The possibilities are endless.

His mind wanders.

They'd even have time to elope...

He's getting ahead of himself.

They still haven't _talked_.

They've spoken scarcely on the phone a couple of times, never reaching the heavy stuff as he would call it. He thinks briefly about his last day of school. One of his girls came over to him all dressed up like a fairy and waved her wand at him. He actually found himself wishing for something. Something he hasn't dared wish for in a long time.

He wonders, as he dials her number, if he should tell her that he might possibly, maybe, _perhaps_ still have residual, unresolved, lingering, all of the above, feelings for her.

He's not sure of how he feels himself. Nine years is a long time. They don't know each other anymore. How could he possibly still love her? They're different persons now. He doesn't want to think about it yet. He wants to embrace the moment. Whatever happens. He needs to see if they could still be friends.

She answers on the third ring and he doesn't even let her talk.

"What happened to you, first year of college?"

"Whu… what?" she's taken aback, he can tell. He doesn't want to let it go, it's too late for that now.

"Kurt said something… it's been bothering me."

She's silent on the other end. But he can hear her breathing in his ear.

"Rachel?"

He hears her sigh and can actually picture her closing her eyes to gather the strength to talk.

"It didn't go well at Juilliard," she starts with such a small voice he's convinced he heard her wrong.

He can tell from her tone she's ashamed of sharing this memory, so he just lets her talk. He's too stunned to react anyway.

"I thought I was good, but everyone there was so good... So much better than me… Back then I really thought I'd take New York by storm, you know? That I would be pushing agents away, that I'd have to refuse roles…" she sighs again but goes on nonetheless, he swears he hears the smallest sniffle coming from her end.

"I realize now how cocky I was to ever think that, but this first year, being by myself in the city, with everyone giving me once-overs, having to actually _work_ to only be average, it was… really hard." Knowing her he knows that back then she would have been devastated. He mumbles some apology but she's too engrossed in her confession to acknowledge it.

"It took me so long to get out of it, I hated that I couldn't succeed. I hated that I only got my first big role because the girl I was understudying got sick, it was…"

She doesn't need to finish her sentence for him to understand how she would have felt. He knew her too well at the time.

"Why didn't you call me?" he ventures without even realizing.

He wants to kick himself, because of course she couldn't call him. He had made it clear (unwillingly) that he didn't want to talk to her when he didn't say goodbye or acknowledged her letter.

But her answer startles him more than an outburst on this subject would have.

"Because I failed you!" he can literally hear her tears spill as she answers him in a frustrated cry.

His mouth hang open as she finishes, "the only way it would have made it worth it to leave you behind would have been to live up to your expectations," she says, "but I didn't, I wasn't even good enough to make it there. You were so confident, you believed in me so much and I utterly let you down…"

He hates himself for ever making her think that. For putting so much pressure on her when all he wanted was to show her how good he thought she was.

He wants so badly to cross the Hudson River, find her and hug her until she feels better.

He wishes he could tell her he would have loved her anyway.

That it didn't matter to him if she was famous or not, then. Or even now.

That there have always been so many awesome things about her… so far he's never been able to tell her _what_…

He longs for tomorrow.

…

It's been a month.

They've been casually, platonically, seeing each other every day for a month.

It feels like a week. And at the same time it feels like a year, ten years. The nine years they spent apart magically erased.

But it's not enough anymore. He longs to touch her. Kiss her. Anything that would allow him to be closer to her than he is when they stroll around New York, picnic in the park or see a musical together.

It's been a month of rediscovering each other, talking endlessly about what happened to them since… a month of laughter and complicity. And, as she said forever ago, of falling in love over and over again every minute. Even more so than he was when they were seventeen.

He gets goose-bumps each time their arms brush against each other. He yearns to just grab her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.

He has to settle for their daily goodbye hug though, and the occasional peck on the cheek they allow themselves to give each other.

It's been a month and tonight he just can't take it anymore.

He takes her back to Kurt's apartment. He resolved to talk to her. He _must_ tell her.

He's scared though. Of messing up what they worked so hard to rebuild. Of the possibility that she'll turn him down. He's not sure he's ready to handle that. But he can't stand being apart from her any longer.

She goes to the bow-window and settles herself in front of the panorama. He knows she loves the view Kurt's got from his apartment. She can never get enough of it.

The room is only lit by the streetlamp light coming from the window, the orange radiance creating a cozy atmosphere, enveloping everything, including her, in a velvety glow.

She looks…

He sighs.

She looks unreal.

He actually has to retain a cry. He knows he's whipped. He came to term with it a long time ago but it still amazes him the effect she has on him.

He reaches her and comes to stand against her back. He feels her catch her breath when he puts one hand on her shoulder as his other settles on her hip, but she doesn't stop him and he takes confidences in that. He reaches down to bury his face in her hair, or kiss the side of her neck, or anything she'll let him do. His heart skips a beat when she tilts her head to the side, allowing him access as her hand joins his.

He gently turns her to face him, cupping her cheek, brushing his thumb to her lips, fighting his will to kiss her. He waits for an _"I can't"_ that doesn't come, so he lets his lip brush her face, burning her skin with his ragged breath and he almost falters when their lips finally meet, making up for lost times.

They stop kissing and look into each other eyes, both flushed and out of breath. Her gaze is intense and he reads in it an answer to his unspoken question. He pulls her against him in a tight hug, clenching his fists and swallowing hard, thanking whomever is to thank for allowing him to be there.

They pull away slowly before their mouths avidly meet again. Rachel's fingers slide in his hair, loosing themselves in it and soon Finn's hands are on her, rediscovering every curve of her body.

They stumble to the guest-bedroom, never detaching from their kiss. They however stop on the threshold, neither knowing what to do next, both fearing of going too fast.

Finn gently pushes a stray hair from her face and his hand rests softly on the side of her neck. She rises on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek lightly, almost feather-like. Her mouth trails along his cheek, his temple before it brushes his closed eyelids and makes its way back to his lips.

Her touch is making him shiver and they both have trouble keeping their breathing even.

The hand he set at her waist goes down a little, stopping a split second on her hip before moving up again, raising her flowery top in the process and finally setting on the small of her back, directly in contact with her skin. She lets her hands slip down his chest and he wonders for a moment if she's assessing his heartbeat. They go on though and finally reach the bottom of his polo shirt, clasping it and pulling it out of his jeans.

Her forwardness encourages Finn to trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck and on the part of her chest exposed by the hem of her top, all the while pressing her harder against him as she lets her head fall back, enjoying his touch.

Rachel steadies herself by gripping his upper arms, gasping at the intensity of her feelings. She's out of breath. They both are. And they both stop an instant to gauge the other's reaction, as if to be really sure. But they are. And the simple parting of their bodies can tell them that. They can't stop.

They hurriedly resume their embrace, the kiss this time ten times more passionate than it ever was. Deeper, breathtaking, and so ardent they want to scream at the wrench they feel inside.

This time Rachel doesn't hesitate as she frantically slides his shirt up, grabbing the material and pulling it above his head while he kicks his shoes off.

When she's done it too he lifts her by the waist and makes her kneel on the bed, where he carefully strips her top off her, still stroking her back.

Rachel reaches behind her and finds the zipper of her skirt, opening it and letting it flow around her knees before tossing it aside.

Finn returns to kissing her neck and his hand reaches for the strap of her bra, peeling it from her shoulder while his mouth follows the path of the pulled material. He lets moist kisses on her flushed skin, going back to her throat again as his hand reaches for the clasp of her underwear and hers fumble with the buckle of his belt.

When she manages to undo it she unbuttons the fly of his pants and eases the apparel down his thighs from where Finn kicks it off hastily.

When Rachel is at last freed from her bra she harshly pulls Finn against her and kisses him forcefully, the feel of her breasts crushing on his torso overwhelming him beyond measure.

He gasps and returns the embrace, his arms encircling her so tightly he almost lifts her off the bed. In this position he could swear he feels her heart beating fast against his as she most certainly can feel his too, heavy, erratic.

She eventually takes control and sits back on the bed, dragging Finn with her as she lies down on the cushions, never parting from their fervent kiss. His hands go from her back to her ribcage, going up slowly, brushing the side of her breasts, carefully avoiding touching her too heavily. His fingers linger on her skin, discovering it slowly, as if he were reading Braille. His touch is eliciting goose-bumps on her smooth skin and she shifts to get closer to him, her fingers digging in his back, feeling, skimming, gently grazing his body, the course of her hands slowed by the moist of perspiration.

She can feel his erection against her thigh and uses all her forces to flip them over so she's on top, able to reach his boxers and pull them down. No sooner has she done this that Finn flips them back, pining her arms to the bed, entwining her fingers with his.

He slowly draws the contour of her lips with his tongue before Rachel lets it meet hers in another passionate kiss.

He starts to move downward then, tracing the line of her chin, her neck, her clavicle, with his tongue darting at each pressure of his lips, leaving a wet path on her burning skin. The cool air of the room on this humid trail going further down feels ice cold to Rachel and she shivers even more, her nipples hardening, her body so eager for his she grabs his hand and places it firmly on her bosom, her frame lifting off the bed to meet him more quickly.

He understands her request and finally allows himself to fondle her breast, playing lightly with her nipple while he keeps kissing a line from her ribs to her belly.

Inevitably reaching the hem of her panty he lets go of her breast and grips the material at both sides, gliding it slowly off her, taking his time, kissing and licking her hips, her thighs in a killing slowness.

Rachel can't take it anymore, she's panting, her body palpitating from excitement. The moment she's freed from her underwear she sits up to grab Finn's neck and pulls him to her, kissing him gravely.

The chuckle of surprise he gives is shortly cut by the intensity of the embrace. Nothing is separating them now and he detaches from the kiss an instant to enjoy the sight of her. Her tousled hair, her slightly swollen lips, her shoulders heaving from her accelerated breathing…

Her skin is glowing in the dim light of the room; she's never looked so beautiful to him.

He cups her neck, scrutinizing her eyes intently, seeing love in them, and lust. If he has been wondering if she was sure, her answer is here, and perfectly clear to him. Her eyes are literally radiating and he feels like she's searching his very soul. He lets his hand slide in Rachel's hair and, closing his eyes, he ever so delicately kisses her lips, barely stroking them. He carefully lays her on the bed, lightly brushing her skin with his palm on his way down her side and to her thigh. He takes his time skimming her buttocks and, finally parting her legs, he slowly enters her.

They both gasp at the new sensation and she grasps his neck while his hands return to her flanks.

The slow pace of their movements, their soft puffs and gentle moans as they move in unison, the kiss of the century be damned, _this_ is above anything either of them have ever experienced.

Her hands moves down his back and she caresses his bottom softly before her fingers return to holding his shoulders, lightly scraping them when his mouth goes back to her neck, his lips sliding along her skin, his hot breath sending trembles of pleasure in her.

He almost wants to cry. It's so… so everything… overpowering. He's like intoxicated by her, he can never get close enough. Her hands on him, her moans against his skin, the feel of her under him, _in_ his hands… it's too much. It's light-heading.

He quickly and unexpectedly flips them over, swapping position so that she's straddling his groin. She watches him intently, panting, slightly gaping at each intake of breath. Her hair is framing her face, making a curtain that isolates them from their surroundings. He tries to speak but no sound comes out of his mouth but a gasped breath. He keeps watching her and eventually catches her hands in his, palm to palm, entwining their fingers together.

He flips them over again, resuming their earlier position.

She brings him down to kiss his lips and he starts moving slowly, trying to pull himself together for fear of going too fast, but this time it's Rachel's turn to be ready and she encircles him with her legs, forcing him further in with each of his thrust. She wants him deeper; she wants them to become one.

She buries her face in his shoulder when she feels the first surge of orgasm wash over her and, clutching eyes and fists, she grasps Finn's neck tightly, trying to retain herself.

He gets hold of her face then, his hands tense, smoothing her temples and hair, he gets her to look at him as he also feels the shake of release course through his body.

The moment they make eye contact Rachel's eyes flutter with pleasure as she arches off the bed, digging her nails in Finn's shoulders, this last display of passion sending him over the edge and his whole body trembles as he comes, sobbing as he squeezes her more tightly in his arms. Her cry of enjoyment dies in her throat as she climaxes and she inhales shortly and holds her breath, letting the sensation overcome her.

Finn closes his eyes as he collapses on top of her, rolling slightly to the side not to crush her underneath him.

They lie here, in each other's arms, still jointed, until they daze off to sleep.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Finn, wait!" she mumbles against his mouth.

He pulls back a little, slightly flustered because she's stopping them _again_.

He loves her. He really does. But he can't go on like this or he will go crazy.

Each time they go a little further, each time is hotter than the previous one, but _each time_ she backs off, either verbally or physically (he didn't care too much for that time she "accidentally" kicked him down there), frustrating him more and more.

He vowed to never pressure her into anything she doesn't want, but taking care of himself won't do anymore. Not since she helped him do _that_ a couple weeks back…

She's so hot and so intense when they kiss that he feels he's a pervert from being horny all the time.

He kisses her check, goes for her lips again but she pushes him back again, making him look at her, "I'm scared." She finally blurts.

He blinks, trying to cool himself down, taking in her worried eyes.

"I know, baby," he tries. Maybe he could actually talk her into going further? It's worth a try… "I don't want to hurt you either," he winces, not too sure it's the right way to go.

"No that's not…" she's biting her bottom lip, brow creased, "actually, I've done some research and, you know, with Yoga and dance classes… I'm not so sure it'd hurt that much," she's making this cutest grimace and he chuckles a bit, of course she would research _that_.

But that doesn't explain her reticence, then.

He watches her quizzically, until she goes on, blushing furiously as if she were ashamed of herself. "I'm afraid of not measuring up…"

He still doesn't understand.

"Measuring up to what?" he knows he sounds stupid, but he knows he has to ask.

"To Santana and Quinn," she murmurs, lowering her head and he wants to laugh.

Because that's such a stupid idea.

How could she think she would be worse than _Santana? _When just _kissing_ her is a billion times better than anything the Latina ever did to him? How could… and then he wants to cry.

Because, no…

In the, maybe, nine months they've been back together (yes, they _have_ been taking it slow) he's never explained anything.

Truth be told, they've been so absorbed in each other that they haven't discussed _much_, but surely by now she'd know?

But how could she know?

He wonders if her reserve could be due to this lack of explanations, because really if she thought Santana is such a sex goddess, of course she wouldn't want to _compete_…

And Quinn?

But he never even…

He's never said that to her either.

He wants to kick himself… he actually wants to throw up. He can be so stupid!

"Let's take a break," he says, and parts from her, going for the clothes he shoved unceremoniously earlier.

He sees her backpedal on the bed, almost hitting the headboard as she gather the sheet around her, her eyes fearful and her voice broken, "what?"

It hits him like a ton of bricks and he's never hated himself more. They did see those episodes of _FRIENDS_ together, and NO! he doesn't want to take a break from _them_. He loves her for crying out loud, when is she ever going to realize that?

She looks like a deer in headlights when he reaches her and scoops her in his arms.

It takes a little convincing to get her to understand and no, "we need to talk" doesn't help either. Is there an award for most awkward boyfriend?

He takes her for ice cream, even if it's February. Because there's never a bad time for ice cream and because he can't think of anywhere else.

He leads her to a booth and she only relaxes a bit when he comes back with a soy frozen yogurt and strawberry sherbet for her (and banana split for him, but that's not the point).

He ponders where to sit and goes for beside her, instead of across. He doesn't want her to feel cornered between him and the wall, but maybe he's thinking too far, because she's only watching him with those giant eyes of her. He'd do anything to never see her cry again, but knowing him, it will probably happen again. He sighs.

"I never slept with Quinn," he starts. They should have done that a long time ago, because he actually feels like a weight has lifted from his chest.

"Really?" she asks, her voice way lighter than twenty minutes earlier.

"Really!" he nods. Okay, let's move on to Santana.

But no, not so fast…

"Why not?" obviously she'd have to ask that…

He doesn't even know.

He tells her.

It's like the whys of them (Quinn and him) getting back together: he's not sure of why he did what he did, or didn't.

It wasn't like that. It wasn't really a relationship based on trust either (he knows she understands it means he trusts _her_). And truthfully, he wasn't _that_ turned on by Quinn anyways, he has to admit. And it feels so good to be able to talk to her like that. Like he could tell her everything.

She gives him a small smile and even says thanks. He chooses to understand she's thanking him for finding _her_ hot enough, because that's totally what he meant by that.

"But Santana?"

They're never gonna get past third base if he's not honest, he understands. And God knows he does want to! Even if it means remembering one of the worst nights of his life.

He takes her hand in his and starts to talk.

How little he felt with her. How empty he felt afterwards, because it was meaningless. How broken he was, thinking about her and Jesse.

"You can even ask Santana, she'll tell you!" he doesn't blame her for not wanting to.

How sorry he feels for lying about it, then not talking about it, but mostly for doing it altogether. Because it was for the most wrong reasons.

And that's when he realizes _her_ reasons for kissing Puck.

But now's not the time for that. He doesn't even care about it anymore.

Now's about them. And how if she wasn't his "first" she'll be the "first that matters". And that it's all she should focus on. Because he loves her. Just her. Always her.

"It's like you're not even my other half," he says holding his hands up before she can get the wrong idea again. "I feel more like you're my third, well… third… you know?"

She tilts her head on the side, trying to follow.

"Because I'm so big and you're so tiny and we just… fit. Like two halves of a circle would slide off each other but a third will fit with the other two and it's just like us." He tries to demonstrate with their hands but she climbs in his lap and his chin rests naturally on top of her head as his arms circle her; and yeah, she totally got what he meant.

"I love you," she finally says back, leaning into him.

They don't give a damn about their untouched, now melted, ice creams.

…

_I am at ease in the arms of a woman.  
>Although now,<br>most of my days __I spend alone.  
>A thousand miles,<br>from the place I was born.  
>But when she wakes me,<br>she takes me back home._

Now, most days,  
>I spend like a child.<br>Who's afraid of ghosts in my mind.  
>I know, there ain't nothing out there.<br>I'm still afraid to turn on the lights.

_(__Amos Lee, Arms of a woman)_

…

TBC

Let me know!

(and as always thanks to Su, she'll know why, and to Céline, because yeah, some people got to read the sex part beforehand!)


	6. Stay

**AN: sorry guys for the long wait. I've been on vacations and instead of writing more, I wrote less…**

**But I promise you this story will be finished by the time the show resumes (as always). Let me know your thoughts!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its characters; I'm just playing around with them. I don't own the song, Gavin DeGraw does (and I'll never forgive him for cancelling his Paris show for which I had tickets. I don't own NCIS either. Thanks to Su (SLopez) for being there all the time even when I don't provide with anything (and believe me she's seen this story being changed so many times it's a miracle she can keep up!) and thanks to Mez (MezMaroon8) who agreed to share Gavin's song ;)**

**On to chapter 6: Stay**

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She never stays.

…

They've been spending so much time together that it feels they never parted.

But she never stays.

It's been almost a month.

Four weeks.

Twenty-eight days of being back together.

Summer is coming to an end and they will both have to get back to work soon. Yet he just can't help but hope for something else, something more.

They've never spent a night at her place. He's only been there a couple of times for some afternoon delight, before a show or a dinner. But she refuses to take him there at night, somehow Kurt's apartment is always closer, or the maid didn't come and the place is supposedly a mess.

He'd learned from an episode of NCIS back in the days that women liked to make love in their own bed, and she certainly seemed to enjoy it there (not that she doesn't in Kurt's guest's bed, or kitchen, or shower), but she's never invited him to stay over.

And she's yet to spend the night with him.

He wonders if it's a way of telling him something. But she seems so… _committed_ when they're together... He really doesn't understand what it's about.

The fist time he'd thought he'd been played. He had woken up in a blissful state, groping for her in the bed and, feeling it empty (and cold), he had assumed she was taking a shower, or making breakfast; or out to _get_ breakfast. When he finally admitted to himself she'd left, without as much as a goodbye note, he had stared into space for the longest time, feeling the taste of bile fill his mouth as he blinked furiously, refusing to let the tears fall. If it was karma's payback for the times he'd done the same to one of his one night stands it sure hurt like hell. And yes he'd already been stood up before, but never by someone he cared _so_ _much_ about. His heart had nearly jumped out of his chest when she'd texted him later that day to make plans and apologise for her early departure due to some work issue.

He hasn't say a word to her then and he still hasn't voiced his feeling about her leaving but it doesn't hurt any less, waking up alone, thinking that she actually waits for him to fall asleep to escape.

He wants to ask her, _demand_ for some explanations, but everything else is so good he's not sure it's worth fighting about.

He doesn't want the summer to end. He knows he has to go back to school soon for the teachers meetings and pupils lists and everything his job entails. Kurt called to say he was extending his trip in Italy (so things are going very well for him and Flavio and Finn couldn't be happier for his brother, even if he kind of misses him). He even offered Finn to stay at his place, as a roommate for the school year, so he can complete his degree. And it would be lying to say he didn't consider the offer seriously before declining it. He owes it to his school to go back, at least for this school-year. But it's his last chance to complete the master degree and he's not sure he wants to miss on the opportunity to ever be able to come and teach in New York. Especially now that he _does _have a point.

But does he?

Maybe he's just a distraction to her after all.

They haven't make plans, haven't talked about the future or even what would happen of them when the summer's over. And it almost is.

It's breaking his heart to think things could be over already, when they have barely started again. He doesn't want it to end, whatever _it_ is.

…

He rolls over in his sleep, not nearly waking up, but the movement of the bed beside him prevents him to fall back asleep. He shakes the slumber from his head before it's too late.

"Wait!" he nearly cries out and she freezes on the edge of the bed, her back turned to him. Maybe she wasn't careful enough this time, maybe he wasn't as fast asleep as she thought, but whatever it is he's not letting his chance slip this time.

He's beside her in a flash, grabbing her shoulder to prevent her from getting up.

"Go back to sleep," she tries, "it's late."

He checks, it is. It's nearly 2AM.

"Stay," he ventures, "it's late…" she shakes her head, biting her lips together. She tries to shake his hand off her shoulder, but he's not having it.

"I can't…" she says, not elaborating as she gets up and starts gathering her clothes.

He hates seeing her dress up, nearly running away.

"Of course you _can_! So why _won't_ you?" he's feeling annoyed, calling after her angrily. "Half your stuff is here," he gestures at the bathroom door, "and it's not like we can't go to your place in the morning to get you changed!" he's getting frustrated by the second. He knows anything he'll say she'll argue with. But he doesn't want her to leave. He wants her here with him, _needs_ her here. If only for those last few days.

She refuses to answer. Refuses to meet his eyes as she dresses in the dark.

"Rach…" he all but pleads.

"I can't." She states again, making him feel as if she'd punched him in the stomach.

"Why?" he knows he's pushing her but he need his answer.

He sees her shake her head again and he hates that they have to fight over this but he just can't take it anymore.

"Rachel! Why?" he raises is voice exasperatedly, getting up and turning the light on. He's taken aback when he sees her face. He wasn't expecting her to be crying.

"Because if I stay, I'll never be able to leave again." She says in the smallest of voices before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

He stays rooted on the spot for a couple of seconds before he snaps out of it and runs after her.

Thanks to Kurt's gigantic apartment he catches up with her before she's out the door.

"So don't leave…" he's searching her face for some answer. He doesn't understand her hesitancy. Her reason for leaving is an admittance of her love for him if anything. So why can't she allow herself to _be_ with him?

"What's the point?" she asks seriously, looking in his eyes for the first time since he came inside of her earlier. Since she pretended to fall asleep in his arms.

But no! She's not serving his _this_ line! Not now that he's finally done with it himself.

"Really?" he asks. He's hurt. And angry, incredulous, desperate. He can feel her slipping away. He's learned a long time ago that it's not enough if only one of them _believes_.

"What is this for you?" he asks softly, cocking his head to the side, searching her eyes as his hand makes a motion from her to him then back.

"I don't know," she murmurs, "an enchanted interlude…"

He doesn't want to cry. He refuses to cry. "Please…"

"We're not going anywhere, Finn," she wipes the tears from her eyes. "We've been here before. God, we don't even live in the same state!" she urges him to understand but he doesn't want to. All the more because they _have_ been here before. Because now they can get past this. They can try and make it work. It's not like he's still in Ohio! Hell, New Jersey is almost New York, how many people commute everyday from one to the other? They _can_ do it, they _have_ to try.

"You don't believe what you're saying..." he challenges her.

"How many times, Finn? Tell me how many times I have to lose you to finally understand that we're not meant to be? How many times do we have to break up before it's the last one?" He's speechless in front of her. He wants to make her stop but he doesn't seem to be able to form words.

"It's easier this way," she says, nodding her head as if trying to convince herself in the process, "no commitment, so no one gets hurt in the end."

"The only problem," he says, "is that I'm hurting. And _you're_ hurting too."

"I never said it was a foolproof plan…"

"I love you," he says, interrupting her.

"Finn, it's only been a month..." she sounds weary and frustrated.

"No," he cuts her again, "actually it's been ten years. Twelve if you count from the beginning. It never stopped, Rachel. No matter how hard I tried. And I don't care if you're not able to understand it but I LOVE you, and one day you'll have to believe that!" he finishes stubbornly.

And it's the first time in nine years he's said the words but it doesn't make them any less true.

…

He guides her back to bed, taking advantage of her exhaustion and the height and weight he's got on her. He wishes she would believe him. It kinda feels like she's just putting up with him. He wants nothing more than to lock the door so she will not escape again. He's not sure his speech hit home as he hopes it did.

He holds on to her and she clings to him but there are too many things left to be said. He'd give anything to see the future and prove to her that they'll still be _them_.

He wishes he had completed his master degree sooner so that distance wouldn't be an issue, again.

He wishes they'd have more than just ten days of summer left...

He wishes she'd said I love you back.

He doesn't say a thing. He just rocks her back and forth for the longest time.

She cries herself to sleep.

He cries himself to sleep.

…

She's gone when he wakes up.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She's not stopping him.

She's not stopping him.

She's not stopping him she's not stopping him she's not stopping him.

"Rachel, wait!" he mumbles against her mouth.

"Humpf?" she answers, only kissing him with more passion.

"Babe, we need to stop..." he says, not believing _he_'s the one stopping things this time.

"No we don't," she breathes proceeding to kiss his jaw then his neck.

He has to brace himself because God knows he doesn't want to stop but they _have_ to.

They're naked. Together. In bed. In an empty house. Her dads are out for the night and his mom thinks he's at a sleepover at Mike's (he didn't lie, but he didn't contradict her either).

This. Can't. End. Well.

He pushes away from her.

"Rach..." he says flustered, breaking away from the kiss and she finally focuses her gaze on him. She's watching him with those eyes... and she looks so... she's flushed, and naked, and beautiful... and the way she opens her mouth to ask what's going on...

It's too much.

He doesn't even know why he wants (needs) to stop anymore.

She's panting, God, his hips give an involuntary jerk and he closes his eyes, bending his head forward to try and regain some sort of composure.

"What's wrong?" she asks, cupping his cheek and beseeching him with her eyes.

"We need to stop," he repeats, amazed that he's even able to articulate words.

"Why?" she inquires, biting her bottom lip.

He finds that he has trouble breathing. Because if she's asking why then maybe she… he doesn't need to think about that because he's worked up enough already.

"If we don't stop now, I won't be able to stop later," he admits. She knows about his guy issue and it's not really an issue anymore, but he doesn't want to mess up the perfect time they've been having by embarrassing himself.

"I don't want to stop," she says again, and it's a couple of seconds before it registers to him what she's really saying.

He watches her dumbfounded and finds her nodding silently, answering his unspoken question.

They've touched each other. Helped each other, let's say, relieve some itches, and it's a fact that since they talked about things they have been more adventurous but he'd be lying if he said he was actually prepared to go all the way.

He wants to.

He really wants to.

But as much as she was afraid of not measuring up, he's scared he is not gonna live up to her expectations. Not that he asked her about them, but he figures his inexperience in the matter will certainly be more of an issue when it comes to her enjoying herself. Even if he's never heard her complain about what they _have_ done, on the contrary.

He has to voice his concern but it's her this time with the reassurance and pep talk.

...

There's a blur in his mind between his '_are you sure'_ and her '_I love yous_'. There're some weird noises and faces, some fumbling to get and put on a condom, some awkward movements, but suddenly she's all around him, body mind and soul as she'd later say, and it's the most amazing feeling in the world.

And she's smiling too.

He knows he should move, if anything, but he's aware that moving means finishing (sooner rather than later in this case) and he never wants this to end. It's too awesome. It's beautiful. She's beautiful. And he's not sure he tells her out loud but at least he knows that she knows he thinks it.

It gets more… comfortable somehow. He starts moving after he's regained some self-control and it's… just… can they just do that _all the time_? He gets to watch her make those awesome faces. He gets to touch her, even more so than he already was, and she's touching him too, her hands wandering over his skin, his hair. It feels amazing. He feels everything. It _means_ everything.

…

And suddenly there's something happening _inside_ of her at the same time that she starts to shiver and her eyes open in surprise as a small 'oh' escapes her lips and it's just too much for him to take. He's soon to follow her, unsexily groaning her name against her neck before clumsily collapsing beside her in an attempt to avoid crushing while still keeping contact as much as possible.

She starts to laugh and it's almost a relief that he _knows_ she's not making fun of him but rather relishing in what just happened, really.

He's elated (as is she, truthfully) that they finally did it. Finally crossed this step.

And it was awesome!

He'll never get past the feeling of completion, the joy that bursts through him, the… everything.

It's their hug after performing at regionals sophomore year times infinity. It's Superman, Batman and Wolverine all in one, capes, boots and thighs. Santana could take lessons from Rachel if you ask him. And no, he's not thinking about the Latina at this moment but later he makes sure to tell Rachel about it. Like she couldn't compete… Ridiculous.

…

It's not five minutes before he's up to it again.

And amazingly, she is too.

...

_There's a couple things I'm still learning  
>Just gotta figure out<br>But you need someone who knows  
>I came to you tonight<br>But now you're just walking away _

_Oh won't you stay  
>I need you need you here<br>When you're with me  
>All others disappear<br>I'll follow close  
>So close I'll almost touch<br>I need your love  
>But it never hurt this much<em>

_Don't get caught up in me feeling off course today  
>You can take a minute before you go slipping away<br>I know I took some time but I realized my mistake  
>You don't have to be part of the problem<br>I just need a second chance_

_(Stay, Gavin DeGraw)_

…

To be continued

**AN: the next chapter is almost already done, so it shouldn't be that long for the next update****, but I need to know you're still interested? (I promise, cross my heart, you'll get a happy ending)**


	7. Someone to fall back on

**Last instalment before the ending – epilogue (I always keep my promises, no te preocupes Laylita ;) )**

**Guys please make sure you've read chapter 6 I posted last Monday, ff dot net seems to have missed some alerts and I know for a fact some of you didn't get it! **

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Glee, this is just for fun, I don't own the song mentioned nor Postsecrets. The book I'm mentioning doesn't exist (yet / that I know of) but since it's a future-fic, it might one day ;) .**

**...**

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts, always a boost for an author, and ALWAYS appreciated.**

**Thanks to Mez (MezMaroon8) for sharing songs and thoughts and just being awesomely kind to me tonight.**

**Thanks to my faithful Soraia (SLopez), who had to read this story backwards first and still kept up with me, love you girl!**

**Thanks to Stacy (gleefully-finchel) for allowing me to use the same postcard she did (I had the idea a long time ago and seeing her use it before I could… I had to ask ) for those who would like to see said postcard: ****tinyurl. com (slash) onlyoneallowed**** (geez couldn't this be easier?)**

**Chapter 7: Someone to fall back on**

…

"You love him…"

"Kurt-" she's starting to get exasperated, but he won't let her finish.

"I'm done listening to you Miss Berry, you love him and you're just trying to make excuses."

"I'm not!"

"Are too! You're fixing this, Rachel. I don't care how you do it but I swear to Yves St Laurent I'll be flying back home on the first Milan- JFK flight I find if I have to ever hear you sulk about my brother ever again! Or him sulk about you." He finishes, almost breathless. Fighting with your best friend over the phone is beyond frustrating as he wishes he could _physically_ shake some sense into her.

"Goodbye, Kurt." She hangs up on him. She hopes he'll understand. This is something she has to sort by herself. Maybe with someone else's help as well. Just not _this_ Hudson-Hummel brother.

But she has a lot of thinking to do first.

...

He hasn't tried to call.

She hasn't either.

He's packed his things and left Kurt's apartment with Alexander McQueen on leash and his heart in pieces.

He has school to focus on anyway. The preparations for the first day will be enough to prevent him from moping around.

Or moping around _too much_.

He hopes...

He only answers monosyllabically to Kurt's enquiries, almost brushing him off. He doesn't want to talk about it. Doesn't want to think about it. Wants to stop thinking about her.

It's the end of summer anyway. It was, as she said, an enchanted interlude. Something out of a dream. Which makes waking up, coming back to reality, _that_ much harder.

He hangs up on Kurt. He knows his brother will understand. And if he doesn't... it's not like Kurt's going anywhere. They're enough of friends to give the other some slack when needed. And Kurt knows the hint of jealousy Finn feels, knowing his stepbrother doesn't have to lose Rachel again and again. It would be so much easier to be just friends, to not fall in love over and over and over each time.

Sometimes he wonders if there actually are ways to finally, definitively, irremediably get rid of that connection he feels towards her. Because really, the years did nothing to the tether.

Except maybe make it stronger.

...

He finds her on his doorstep in New Jersey one night, almost a week after she fled.

She's flushed and upset and making a lot of hand gestures but not a lot of sense and he can't _not_ let her in, so he does, with a feeling she'd have pushed him out of her way to pass the threshold if he had tried to stop her anyway.

"Kurt said... And I... Finn, I'm..." she seems unable to end (or even _start_) a sentence.

He leads her to his worn out couch and gets her a glass of water, to buy her (and him, really) some time.

"I don't know..." she eventually says, averting her gaze.

"Why are you here?" he can't help but ask.

It's like she doesn't even know herself from the look in her eyes.

But she has to have thought about it right? It's New Jersey here, not Kurt's East side penthouse. She had to either take a train or hire a town car. She _must_ have thought this over.

"I don't know how to lose you again," she says. And it's as if she really believes that she _has_ to.

"And I've tried to think this through but really I don't know." She's more talking to herself than him really. But they're good at that kind of one sided conversations really, so he lets her go on.

"Because I know Lady Gaga said that if you have to choose between love and career, remember your career will never wake up and tell you it doesn't love you anymore, but Marilyn also said that a career is wonderful, but you can't curl up with it on a cold night. And I've already followed my dreams and I just don't know..." she raises her gaze to meet his and he tries very hard not to get his hopes up at the moment. "I don't know if it's enough."

He's not sure what she's talking about. Him or her career.

"And I wouldn't mind to, you know, 'get it all'," she says, making the inverted quotes with her fingers. "But I don't want you to think it's because you're here and convenient, and..." she sighs, frustrated at herself for her lack of eloquence.

She gets up and leans against the counter, as if seeking support.

"It's always been you, Finn..." she doesn't dare look him in the eyes and he's biting his lips to prevent himself from squealing with enthusiasm. "But I really don't know if there's still something left for us." She finally finishes, her shoulders slumping and her sentence erasing the smile from his face.

He vacates the coffee table he was sitting on to join her and takes the glass from her hands, nearly having to pry it from her so much as she's grasping it.

He might have rehearsed this a lot, but having to finally _perform_ it, it's unnerving. He feels like it's his last shot at it. Like a final representation. But it's also the performance that could own him... _her_. Like an Oscar. Or a Tony, rather. He just _has_ to deliver.

He reaches for her shoulders, setting one hand on each as he crouches to catch her gaze.

"Rach, I know I'll never be a Broadway star like you. I won't even try. But I know where I am now. I'm good at what I do and I can only hope it's enough for you." He swallows the lump in his throat as he witnesses the tears in her eyes.

"I know that we're not in the same state, but really, you can't make that an argument, because look how close it is?" he shakes her just a little, trying to make her laugh. "I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, because you'll have work and I will be super busy with classes and trying to get done with my studies, but I want to be the one you need. The one you curl with at night." He stresses, nodding, as he repeats her earlier quote.

"I want to be there for you. To be happy with you when you've had a great day, or get to comfort you if you didn't. And I can't make you promises beyond the fact that I've been in love with you for so long, and I don't see that ever coming to an end…"

So, no, he can't really finish. And just like he said, he hopes that it's enough.

It almost feels like he's getting through to her, though.

She's watching him intently, silently, and he's still not sure at this point if it's a good or a bad thing that she still doesn't seem able to talk.

He lets his hand go from her shoulder to her wrist, running on the underside of her arm until he catches her hand.

"You never really believed that I loved you, did you?" It's not really a question.

"It's not that…" she argues weakly.

"So explain it to me. Please?"

She sighs painfully and leads him by the hand to sit on the couch again.

She sits beside him, just a little too far but she doesn't let go of his hand and he takes it as a good sign.

"Do you remember that book I gave you for your birthday senior year? The 'Postsecret' one?"

He chuckles a bit to himself while she plays with his fingers. He hasn't told her yet that that's where he kept her letter all those years.

"Yeah," he only answers, waiting for her to talk.

"There was a secret in there that made me buy the book..." she watches their hands entwined in her lap, "one that I could relate to…" she trails off a bit and as little as he wants to push her he needs to know more.

"Yes?" he asks, searching her face.

She sighs deeply, gathering courage, "it said _imagine my surprise when-_"

"_…you loved me back"_ he finishes with her, witnessing the astonishment register on her face.

She cocks her head to the side, clearly surprised he'd know what she's talking about.

"You know the one?" she asks and he only nods, biting his lips. He's gonna tell her. He just needs to hear her first.

"It's a feeling I've always associated to us, this secret. No matter how much we would share or how many times you would tell me you loved me, it was always a shock to me. Because I never felt like I deserved you. That I was good enough…"

He edges her closer to him and she obliges timidly. He has to insist for her to look into his eyes. He can't even talk at the moment so he just hugs her for a while. Until he asks, _begs,_ her to wait for him before changing his mind and finally dragging her to his bedroom where he sits her on his bed and starts fumbling in his bedside table. He grabs the book from the drawer and shows it to her.

She looks at him anxiously as he shuffles through the pages until he reaches the one he's looking for.

He put her letter back between the pages after they met again and can only smile when he sees her scrutinize the worn out envelope he handed her two months ago.

"This is where I kept it…" he explains, "this exact page." He shows her the printed postcard, running his fingers along the words he read so many times.

"Why?" she enquires. It's like she still doesn't understand. Or doesn't remember the time he gave her the star necklace (or maybe just the '_I can't be with you_' part).

"Because I felt the same way…" he can tell she still doesn't believe him.

"When you were with Jesse, or that time when you… with Puck… it felt like you didn't love me. I really thought back then that you cheated because you didn't love me." He shakes his head as if to erase the thought, he learnt a long time ago it was a stupid idea.

"And I saw so much potential in you even then, that I just felt I wasn't worthy of you. When we got back together at Nationals you had just told me that you didn't want anyone to keep you from your dream and I really didn't want to be that person. That's why I was surprised when you kissed me back on stage. Why I didn't seek you when we got back. Because I was so sure I had messed up so badly that it was impossible for you to love me." He can see her eyes tearing up and he knows his are too but he has to finally put everything on the table.

"When you didn't ask me to come to New York with you I thought it meant that you felt I would hold you back and it's only when I read your letter that I understood that you wanted me to find my calling first. And I have, thanks to you!"

He takes her hand and puts in on his chest, above his heart, holding it there with both his own.

"And now, it feels like we're given a second chance, or third? Or is it fourth? I want to be with you... At the moment I don't care _how_ and I don't care if it's the last chance we'll get but I don't want to miss on it again. And what you said tonight, it surprises me but it tells me that you love me too. And I don't want to pretend it's not real."

"I don't know what to do," she murmurs. "What will happen…?" He wraps his arms around her before she can finish her sentence. He doesn't know what the future holds more than she does but he wants to believe they can make it work.

"Hey, I'm scared too, okay? Just… don't close the door on us just yet."

She nods against his chest and he closes his eyes in relief as he lies back on the bed, bringing her down with him.

…

He wakes up from the deepest sleep. Rachel is lying across his chest, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. He breathes heavily, trying to prevent his thoughts from only focusing on what they shared last night. He nonetheless lets his finger run up and down the silky skin of her back, enjoying the sweet smell of her hair.

She starts to stir, quivering under his touch.

"You're here…" he marvels, beaming at her. Reveling in the feel of her in his arms.

"I love you," she just answers, her voice raw and soft as she proceeds to slowly kiss his throat and jaw, making her way to his mouth. He can only respond to her kiss, fully enjoying the moment.

Unhurriedly, he turns to his side, laying her back on the bed in his movement. Leaning over her, he strokes her shoulders and arms, feeling the warm touch of her hands all over his skin.

Oblivious to the time and everything else, they slowly let their passion engulf them again.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"What color are you wearing to prom?" he asks her one morning as he meets her at her locker. The look she gives him in return is not at all what he had expected, a mix of confusion and _hurt_?

"Why?" she asks quite warily. He doesn't understand her wounded tone.

"Prom? You know, the dance, this Saturday?" he prods her shoulder playfully, maybe she's joking, he can't be too sure.

"But _why_?" she asks again, stressing her last word. It seems like she's about to cry and he has no idea what's going on in her head.

"So I can match my tie to your dress…? and I've ordered you a corsage, but it's pink, so if you'd rather I chose a different color, I need to know now…" he's beginning to freak out as he watches his girlfriend seemingly crumble in front of him. He knows this look and he doesn't like it.

It looks like she's trying really hard not to cry but as soon as she'll turn around she'll let the tears fall down. He's seen this look too much last year, been the reason for it too much, too. He never wants her to look like that _ever_ again, especially not by his fault. But he doesn't understand why she would _just now_.

She still won't answer him so he bends down a little to make eye contact as she's only been looking everywhere but in his eyes since he started the conversation.

"Rachel? What?" he tries to touch her arms but she shifts uncomfortably to break the contact and he as to admit it hurts.

"Why would you do that, since we're not going together?"

He's not sure he heard her correctly.

He's sure he _didn't_ hear her correctly, what is she talking about?

"Uh? What?" he manages to say, finally getting her to look up, "why wouldn't we go together? You don't wanna go?"

He's not sure what's worse, what she just said or the look on her face like he'd just given her the greatest toy in the world, just to take it away from her two minutes later.

"I thought you were going with Quinn," she finally says in the smallest voice.

He once again thinks she's kidding him, because he hasn't talked to his ex in forever, doesn't even want to, so why would he go to prom with her?

He asks.

"You haven't asked me," she says and he wants to hug her and slap her at the same time for being so silly. Okay, he hasn't, but he thought it was sort of implied! But she's not finished talking, "and Kurt told me you told him you already had a date for prom, when you thought he was asking you out."

She's so serious it's freaking him out. They're not so good on the talking part but really if she'd think he'd go to prom with anyone but her…

He remembers this conversation with Kurt though. But it was back in sophomore year, when he was effectively dating Quinn. He wasn't implying anything by it then; he wasn't even _thinking_ that far. And he never thought about it again after that until now that his usually buoyant girlfriend makes a scene about it.

Only she's not even making a scene, she hasn't raised her voice, all the more scaring him to the importance this might take for her.

He drags her away from the crowd. Second period be damned: he's not leaving it at that.

He sits her in one of the choir room chairs and all but kneels before her. She looks so down it's painful to watch.

"I'm not going to prom with Quinn," he states confidently, hoping to make a point.

"But you said-"

"I know what I told Kurt," he cuts her, "but it was a long time ago, and I didn't really mean that, I mean, I mostly wanted to get rid of Kurt, not too proud of that... And I certainly never promised Quinn."

He notices she's chewing on her lip now, a sign that he's getting trough to her.

"I don't know what made you think that, and if Quinn said something because of last year and how she wanted to try again for prom Queen and King this year, I'm sorry but she was mistaken and there's no chance I'm going with her."

Rachel's smiling a little now, biting her lips together as she watches him with shiny eyes.

"Really?" she asks, for good measure.

"Really! I only want to go with you," he cups her cheek and watches her lovingly, "even last year, I-" he's cut by her hand on his mouth and he understands. He doesn't want to talk about last year either to be honest.

"You spent all this time thinking I was going to prom with her?" he asks, trying not to scoff at the absurdity?

"Well, yeah," she says. He knows she's feeling shameful now.

"And you were okay with that?" he can't believe how amazing she is that she'd accept for him to go to prom with someone else because of a supposedly given word.

"No," she admits shrugging and looking at her hands in her lap, "but I know how important promises are and I'd never want to make you break one." She raises her eyes to meet his, "I was kinda hoping you'd spare me a dance, though," she shrugs again and he engulfs her in his arms, startling her a little; but she finally returns the hug, sniffling in his shirt as he murmurs _I love yous_ in her hair.

"So, would you go to prom with me?" he asks her seriously a couple of minutes later.

"I'd love to," she bites her lips together and she nudges his arm with her head.

It's too late to get to class now anyway, so might as well make the best of this time together.

"So what about your dress? Would I complement you if I wore a pink tie?" he winks, miming tying something around his neck.

"Yes, you would," she laughs, cuddling closer to him, "but you don't have to; I'd never ask you to wear something you wouldn't."

"I know, babe, all the more reason for me to want to do it," he says, smiling as he watches her nod happily.

"No bowtie or cummerbund, though? " he ventures.

"No prom royalty?" she answers.

"Deal," they both say at once, beaming and shaking hands playfully.

He's never seen her smile so bright. He loves being only _her_ prince.

…

Prom. Is. Awesome!

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_And I'll be that, I'll take your side.  
>If I'm the only one, I'm used to that.<br>I've been alone, I'd rather be:  
>The half of us, the least of you, the best of me.<em>

_And I will be  
>I'll be your prince, I'll be your saint,<br>I will go crashing through fences in your name._

_I will, I swear -  
>I'll be someone to fall back on!<em>

_I'll be the one who waits,  
>And for as long as you'll let me, I will be the one you need.<br>I'll be someone to fall back on_

_(Aly Michalka, Someone to fall back on)_

…

The end

(epilogue to come, don't worry!)

**AN: please let me know your thoughts!**


	8. Epilogue

It the day before his birthday. The twenty-ninth one.

The last year and a half feel like a blur. But somehow a very _vivid_ blur. Everything went by so fast it's uncanny. But every detail is carved in his mind and he wouldn't change that for the world.

It took some time adjusting with schedules, making time for each other around work and classes and events, but somehow they managed.

Back when school resumed that summer, his principal asked for volunteers to cut hours due to some budget problems and Finn took it as his opportunity to focus on completing his degree. With the financial help of his parents (who he's planning on repaying as soon as possible) he's managed to go to classes at night and study on his days off. He spent his time between Jersey (less and less) and Kurt's apartment (_their _apartment as his brothers called it) more and more. And Rachel, Rachel, Rachel, as much as he could. Every chance he got.

They made it through the year and the second summer, going one step at a time, only making small plans for the future until he got his first job in New York for the fall.

Not that they didn't already spend every spare moment with each other but they decided right there and then that it was their cue to move in together, which they did, in record time considering they still each had their own apartments. Her new play being a success, she didn't have that much of a vacation but she insisted on them finding a place of their own instead of cramming his stuff in her flat, arguing she wanted to make fresh memories and forget the apartment she'd been so lonely in. And considering he would have moved to the moon had she asked him to, he didn't give that much of a fight, instead finding the most perfect two-bedrooms in Manhattan for them to share.

It's been a blast, officially living together, waking up with her in his arms every morning, her back to his chest and his chin resting on top of her head, the three thirds finally reunited.

He wonders how in earth he managed to live alone for so long. The answer is simple: he didn't. Just like Burt had said when he married his mom and in that Sammy Davis Jr.'s song about being himself, he had just been surviving.

Now everything is much... brighter.

It's the happiest he's ever been.

...

"It's your birthday tomorrow!" she chimes, kneeling in front of him on the couch, looking like an excited child.

"I know," he smiles, shrugging. Aging doesn't bother him anymore. The gray hairs are more prominent than ever and honestly he couldn't care less.

"You know what we should do?" she continues.

"Elope?" he says, watching her right in the eyes.

"Don't make fun of me," she pouts, seemingly deflating, feeling silly as she remembers making a fool of herself their sophomore year of high school.

"Never," he murmurs, reaching over to kiss her.

He breaks the kiss to gauge her reaction but can't help himself kissing her again.

"I thought..." she speaks against his lips.

"Totally serious," he answers deepening the kiss.

She takes his face in her hands and makes him look at her. He loves how cute she is, slightly cross-eyed as she looks at him from such a close range. And the way she's biting her lips nervously... don't get him started.

They don't need to talk. His eyes and smile answer her questioning look and okay, he didn't get to get down on one knee, and the ring is hidden in one of his drawers, but he _has_ been planning this for a while so he doesn't care if he just blew it with this impulsive move, but it does feel right. And maybe it wasn't the best proposal or the best timing of all, but her squeal of delight and the way she tackles him and kisses him senseless is definitely the best answer.

…

So it's not really _that_ unprepared. Because Kurt couldn't make himself available on the spot when they asked him, and they didn't want to spoil the surprise, so they waited to accommodate his brother's busy schedule.

They get married on a Wednesday morning, with Kurt and Flavio as their witnesses.

She picks his tie, he picks her flowers, he's always had a thing for pink tulips for some reason.

They end up at the lake in Central Park, eating hot dogs and playing with Alexander McQueen as he strolls over the great lawn, fetching the ball they keep sending away for him.

He watches her as she soaks in the early spring sun, playing with her bouquet. He goes over to kiss her, because he can and he wants to, so, so much, all the time.

She laughs lightly as they kiss and playfully paints his nose with the pollen from her flowers, making him sneeze and fake a growl of anger.

Yeah, it's definitely the happiest they've ever been.

As he wraps his arm around her and they watch Kurt run after his dog, he remembers what his brother told him two years ago, when things were bad and the only perspective he had was going to school and randomly hooking up: she's always been the only one allowed to break his heart.

Because she's the only one able to ever fix it.

…

The end.

AN: Can't believe this is over :( but the show resumes in two days so who knows how it will inspire me?

As always thanks a lot to everybody for reviewing and alerting and all.

Thanks to Allie for the help on how to be a teacher in NYC and Stacy for the one on eloping ;)

I hope I didn't disappoint you guys!

Thanks to Céline for harassing me to finish this and thanks to Soraia, who for once didn't get to read this first!

Until next time!


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